


Rouge

by yay_for_absurdism



Category: Eyeshield 21
Genre: Fluff, Kissing, M/M, and lipstick, pretty much just kissing, spoilers for chapter 109
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:13:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25711174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yay_for_absurdism/pseuds/yay_for_absurdism
Summary: Hiruma shouldn't have trusted Kurita to relay the message about the lipstick to the rest of the team. But everything still worked out pretty damn well anyways.
Relationships: Hiruma Youichi/Kurita Ryoukan
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Rouge

**Author's Note:**

> I mean if they give me a cannon chapter about the boys wearing lipstick I'm going to write something about it, damnit.
> 
> Enjoy!

He shouldn't have trusted Kurita to relay the message about the lipstick to the rest of the team. It was such a simple order, _bring lipstick to the game_ , it should have been impossible to fuck up. But no. That big stupid idiot. Now everyone was standing there, looking like fools wearing makeup to a football game, and most of them had it applied incredibly poorly. 

He kicked Kurita, berated everyone else, and gathered up the rouge before shooing the others off for warm up. Ah, well, so be it. Who cares what they looked like? The lipstick would still do its job, Dokubari would still loose spectacularly, and the Devil Bats would still be off to the next round. 

Hiruma sighed, watching his teammates finish warming up. None of them had washed the lipstick off. 

Looking down at the makeup he’d gathered from them all, he surveyed the selection of lipsticks. A few cheap dollar-store ones, the hues too garish and bright, a few acceptable ones, one of which was well-used and likely the one Taki had borrowed from his sister, and few high-end ones, probably borrowed from unsuspecting mothers, to round out the collection. There were maybe two or three colors, in total, which Hiruma would deem as actually wearable. It was no surprise that the vast majority of the team had no sense of style. 

He looked back up at the rest of his teammates, then over to the Dokubari players, and then back to the Devil Bats. And his gaze, as it passed over from person to person, lingered on Kurita. 

That fucking fatty, he hadn’t done too bad of a job. He was wearing one of the mid-range lipsticks, a dark, shiny red. Definitely not the color Hiruma would have guessed he’d pick out. But a good enough color. It didn’t look too bad. In fact, Hiruma found himself thinking that it actually looked really good. 

He shouldn’t have trusted Kurita to relay the message. 

Warmup was over, and he tossed the makeup into his bag, along with his gun. And he didn’t think about the lipstick again, really, until it was 42-0 and almost everyone’s lipstick had rubbed completely off and picking up his bag as he left the field, he remembered the collection of makeup he still had. 

Hiruma glanced over at Kurita, who was talking excitedly and one-sidedly with Komusubi. The lineman’s lipstick had been completely rubbed off over the course of the game, and it was a damn shame. It really was. But. Smirking, Hiruma looked up at a nearby clock. Well, there was some time, more than enough time, before the next game, the Zokugaku and Kyoshin game. 

Rooting around in his bag, he picked out the lipstick Kurita had been wearing and help in tightly in his hand. 

“Oi, fatty.” he said, elbowing his friend in the side. 

Kurita yelped in surprise, and then looked down at Hiruma. “What?” 

“Hang a left.” 

“Huh?” 

“Left. Now.” And he kicked Kurita into an empty side hallway, a hall that led somewhere in the vague direction of the sprinkler control room (not that Hiruma had any reason to know where that room was, no, of course not). 

It was quieter, dimmer, in the hall, the general din of the stadium muffled as Hiruma grabbed Kurita by the jersey and led him forwards, farther away from the noise and the team (who wouldn’t notice their absence for almost ten minutes, somehow). 

“Hiruma, what are you doing?” Kurita asked, letting himself be led around a corner. 

“Oh, nothing.” Hiruma replied, grinning wickedly, and satisfied that they were in a secluded enough place, he stopped and pushed Kurita up against the wall. 

It was surprisingly easy to manhandle Kurita, despite how big he was, but Hiruma suspected it was just because the fatass let him. But either way, it was easy to back Kurita up against the wall, pressing him back onto the cool concrete and leaning up against him, just about at chest height. 

Kurita blinked down at him, looking equal parts concerned and scared and excited. “W-what?” 

Holding up the lipstick he’d had clutched in his hand, Hiruma smirked. “Bend down, I can’t reach form here.” 

Looking more confused, Kurita complied, leaning down so that they were closer together, faces only a couple inches apart. “Why do you still have lipstick?” he asked. 

“ _Your_ lipstick.” Hiruma explained, and there was a flash of understanding in Kurita’s eyes as he popped the little tube open. 

“Hiruma, I don’t think-” 

He reached up with one hand and grabbed Kurita’s face, brandishing the lipstick menacingly in the other. “Shut up and don’t move.” 

And Kurita shut up and didn’t move, holding as still as he could while Hiruma applied his lipstick, deftly and expertly dragging the rouge across his lips, from the center to the corner, and then again, on the other side. At some point in time while evening out the bottom lip, Hiruma felt a hand on his hip, gently gripping his jersey, and he grinned. 

“There.” he said, voice almost a whisper, dropping the lipstick back into his bag. “All done.” 

Kurita nodded, saying nothing, just squirming a little under Hiruma’s intense gaze. He looked good, very good, very cute, lips painted that dark, glossy red and cheeks dusted a similar color. Hiruma’s grin widened, and he chuckled low, under his breath, as he reached up to wind his arms around Kurita’s neck. 

“You look good.” he said, before standing on his tip toes to bring them close enough to kiss. 

After a moment of hesitation and a tiny little noise of surprise, Kurita kissed back. His second hand joined the first on Hiruma’s hip, and arms tightening around the quarterback, just barely lifted him up off of the ground, pressing their bodies closer together. Good. About time he got up the confidence to reciprocate. Hiruma smiled into the kiss, hands closing around fistfuls of Kurita’s jersey, leaning deeper into the kiss. Like this, right after a game, still running high with adrenaline, this was when Kurita was the most receptive and least likely to chastise Hiruma for trying something in public. And, fortuitously, it was also when Hiruma was the most riled up, filled with excited, devious energy and the desire to, well, pin his best friend up against a wall and kiss him. 

And, well, after a game Kurita smelled of leather and sweat and grass, and Hiruma couldn’t help but love that smell. 

Eventually, Hiruma pulled back from the kiss, slightly out of breath. He looked at Kurita, who was breathing heavy as well, and who’s cheeks were flushed, and who’s lips were a deep, beautiful red. 

Well, mostly. This lipstick bled easily, smudged in some places and entirely gone in others. Transferred directly to Hiruma’s lips, he could feel it, and tongue darting out to quickly pass over his lips, he could taste it. 

He leaned forwards to place a kiss on Kurita’s cheek, and sure enough, he left behind a small, red lips-mark on the lineman’s cheek. 

“So, why did you choose this color, hmm?” Hiruma asked, grinning as he wiped at his lip-mark with a thumb, doing a decent enough job at rubbing it off. 

“I...” Kurita stuttered. “I, uh, it was on sale.” 

“Was it now?” 

“And I thought it was a pretty color.” 

Well, it truly was not a bad color. “It looks good on you.” 

“Oh, I don’t-” 

“It does.” Hiruma assured him, giving him a kiss. “Does it look good on me?” 

“Of course!” 

“Good, good.” another kiss. “Why did you think I wanted the team to wear the lipstick?” 

“I-I don’t know. What else are you supposed to do with lipstick?” 

Hiruma hummed, and went in for yet another kiss, this one long and slow and deep. Fair enough. That was what lipstick was for. Except for when it wasn’t and you had some amount of cunning and intelligence and needed it to fool an opponent into misreading a play. But oh well. He could do all the thinking. Kurita could just look pretty in the lipstick, which by now was likely all rubbed off again. 

Just barely, Hiruma could hear the cheer of the crowd rise up, the din muffled by many concrete walls and only just audible to his sharp ears. Ah, the Zokugaku game must be starting soon. Pity. He wanted to watch that game. But he wanted more than anything to stay here, with his arms around his friend’s neck and his jersey riding up and Kurita’s palm hot against the small of his back, just stay here and kiss Kurita until his lips were sore. 

He could sneak off to that nearby sprinkler room, pick the lock again, make it so the fields couldn’t be used for the rest of the day, and with the rest of the games postponed he could drag Kurita somewhere far more secluded than their current location and continue on with the current trajectory of things. 

But then again, he wasn’t really one to stop people from playing. And if the rest of the day’s schedule got messed up, the entirety of the tournament might get fucked, and that was entirely more trouble than it was worth. And after all, they had the rest of the night after the tournament concluded for the day. 

So he didn’t want to, but, “We should get back to the team.” he said with a disappointed sigh, breaking the kiss. “Let go of me.” 

Kurita did, and Hiruma dropped to the ground. Adjusting his jersey and running a hand though his hair to get the slightly sweaty strands to stick back up normally, he picked up his bag. “Let’s go.” 

“Oh, you still have a little...” and Kurita pointed at his right cheek. 

Hiruma wiped his face, and his thumb came away tinted red. He laughed, and pulling Kurita down by the front of his jersey, gave him one last quick kiss before heading back towards the main concourse. 

“Next time, I’ll have to wear the lipstick.” He smirked over his shoulder, “And you’ll be finding red marks all over your body.” 

Kurita stammered something unintelligible, cheeks flushing a deep pink, and Hiruma cackled. He had a very nice matte red color at home, carefully tucked away in the same little toiletries bag as his eyeliner, that would look great on Kurita. 

**Author's Note:**

> We really got jipped by not getting to see Hiruma in lipstick. 
> 
> Tumblr at https://darknebulablader.tumblr.com for more Eyeshield 21 content :)


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